changing pace
by nlca'sluckygirl
Summary: Hope has lots things she would like to change in her life. She doesn't live up to her name since what her dad did to her. so where does she fit in? Now a runaway she must find a way to fit in to a town she must now call home. inspired by sarah dessen
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

"Hope Greene."

I woke from the sleep I was in at the sound of my own name.

"Hope Greene," the teacher called out again. "Hope Greene?"

"I'm here Mrs. Johnson" I called out.

"When called on you answer." She said flatly.

I was the first day of freshman year in high school and everything was going bad for me, not that it wasn't to be expected of course, since what happened last summer.

When the bell rang for lunch I was more than happy to get out of classes, until I actually realized that lunch has dramas of its own. The looks I got were not warm and not welcoming, but exactly the opposite, cold and uninviting. It was clear that I wasn't allowed to sit with anyone so I found a wall where only one boy sit, studying roman mythology. I sat there a good six feet away and stuck my headphones in my ears.

"Hello" the boy said. "Hellooo?"

He finally pulled my one of my earphones, nearly making me jump out of my skin.

"Good, Lord!" I yelled.

"I didn't me to startle you," he started. "I was just…"

I cut him off. "Like that's hard feel proud."

"Of what?" he asked

"Scaring me." I stated. "It's been happening a lot since I came here." I stopped, took a breath and realized I was confiding in a complete stranger. "What's your name again?"

"Curtis Adams." He said. "I mean I was getting there when you cut me off with your speech."

"I hardly call two sentences a speech." I said defensively. "And Hope Greene is my name, but you can call me Wish."

"Wish?" he asked

"Yeah?"

"No, I mean Wish, like how'd you get the name Wish?"

"My middle name is Melisa." I said as if it explained everything, but I soon corrected myself. "An old friend of mine, when we met her accidentally said, 'Me-wish-a', and that was that." I explained with the words to _London Calling_ were still blasting from my earphones.

"I guess it makes since." Curtis said blankly.

What does I wanted to ask, but didn't. But, Curtis was already in my head.

"I mean a hope and a wish are pretty much the same so it would make sense your nick-name would be Wish."

"A hope and a wish are no where near the same." I answered to no one in particular, but myself.

We sat there in silence for a moment, and then Curtis stood up to face me held out his hand and barely whispered, "Hope, time to go to class."

When I walked though the door later that afternoon I was still mystified. Mystified by Curtis, mystified by how small the school was and how everyone would not even look at me when they didn't even know me. Finally, I was totally mystified by how we had to go to class when the bell hadn't even rung, but still there everyone was get their books out for chem.. Lab or algebra or history or whatever class they had next. Spooky.

"Oh, hello Hope," said Mrs. Carlson in her usual monotone voice she used with me, but this time tried to hide it with the least amount of excitement possible.

"Outcast," I heard Mallory say from the couch while flipping through the cable channels. Mrs. Carlson just looked astonished at the unkind words that came from her daughter's mouth. I however jumped right in.

"Oh, I'm sorry," I told her cheerfully. "That doesn't come on 'till nine."

Mallory shot me a look, and then turned back to the television.

"Oh, don't listen to her, Wish."

I turned around to see who said those words and saw Rachel at the other side of the room.

"She just wishes she could have done something equally exciting to get stuck in this hell-hole passing as a town."

Mrs. Carlson looked up from the salad she was chopping, but I don't think anyone noticed. Rachel walked up to next to where I was standing then excitedly waited to see how thing would unfold. Mallory on the other hand, seemed furious.

"I don't happen to think of running away from home acceptable." She said coldly.

I don't know why but at the most absurd times I will notice things that aren't exactly relevant. Like, while Mallory was in her rant I noticed all her features and how beautiful they were. She has brilliant blue eyes, perfect bone structure, and the most dazzling copper, blond hair you will ever see. It really was no wonder she got so many modeling jobs.

"He was abusing her!" Rachel shot back "What was she supposed to do?"

"She should have called the police! It's not that hard of an equation!"

I could tell Rachel was going to retort back, but I cut in first.

"Why in the world do you care so much?" I yelled with such boldness and loudness I surprised not only myself, but shocked Rachel and Mallory. "I mean it's my life, why should you care? If anyone should be mad it should be me right? My father didn't lay a hand on you, so Shut Up! And if this is because you hate me then fine, but I don't see why you do."

Mallory just stood there stunned, while I think Rachel looked slightly proud. For the sake of argument I added whispering softly into Mallory's ear "You are said to be kind to everyone so I'd appreciate the same courtesy extended to me."

The next day when I was getting ready for school I was interrupted by a knock at my door.

"Hi," said Rachel. "So what do you think?" Rachel twirled in front of me showing of a pale pink sweater with a plunging neck line, a pair of dark jeans, somewhat scuffed penny-loafers, and to top it all off she curled her dark brown hair. All of which made her round face and deep sea green eyes pop.

"Wow," I said. "You look great, but could you find a lower v-neck shirt?"

She shot me a look before saying, "You well, look amazing! Though, you could do something with you hair." I hardly thought I looked amazing. My very, dark brown hair was in a low ponytail which was how I always wore it showing off my round face, pale brown eyes, fair skin, and pale pink lips. I was wearing a denim skirt which came three inches above the knee. I also donned a sparking white tank top with glitter woven though it paired with a tan suede jacket to tone it down, with a pair of gold cork wedges.

"By the way," I whispered to Rachel as we walked down the hall to breakfast, "Thanks for defending me last night."

"Hey what are best friends for?" she replied then said in a solemn voice, "Okay, I know pretty much every one is against you at that school, but don't let it get to you."

I nodded respectively as she said this.

"Oh, I only wish I could be there." She sighed. "I mean with you so you didn't have to face this town alone, but my parents had to pop me out a year after you."

As we walked into the kitchen for breakfast everyone was staring at us. I looked over at Mr. Carlson who was usually on my side, but he only casually shrugged as in meaning that I was in for it later today. Rachel and I sat down to eat with 14-year-old Mallory (same age as me), 10-year-old Jack, 3-year-old Natalie, and Mr. and Mrs. Carlson. As seeing this family I always thought how lucky they were to have such a wonderful, loving family, but on the other hand I found it sad that they could not have any children of their own. (All except for me, because of legal reasons, were adopted in this family.) We sat their strangely for only a moment before Mrs. Carlson began to open her mouth to speak, but I was on my feet.

Before she could say anything I started talking fast, saying, "You know I really should go to school early to pick out a book for a new history report so I should go." And before anyone knew I was out the door and walking to school.

It was cold, really cold for an autumn day. I would be an hour early for school, but I was sure I could find something to do. When I first walked into the building it seemed dead until I reached the right wing of the school. The first thing that hit me was the fresh smell of strong, brewed coffee and newly baked muffins that made me realize I was starving since I hadn't eaten breakfast. I walked though what I assumed was the teacher's lounge and learned you can't escape staring and judgments, not even among teachers. I just smiled and pointed to a paper on the board out side the door to see where the library was. I scrolled with my finger down the sign until I found the library, (down the hall and make a right.) when I felt cold fingers on my back which made me jump and heard a voice say, "I think you should come with me."

I walked down a long corridor the school consular behind me still holding my shoulders guiding me to her office. In her words "there were some matters we had to discuss." I still didn't turn around no matter what she said I would just nod and keep walking, no way was this worth avoiding a fight. When we turned into her office, it was dark and dreary until she turned the lights on and then it was a comforting mess. She gestured for me to sit down and when I did I sat on maybe the least comfortable chair ever. She obviously reading my mind poured me some coffee and held out a muffin to me. I took them both gratefully, but as soon as she started talking I wished I could give them back.

"Well," she said taking a bite of her muffin. "I might as well start with the easy question." She paused sipping her coffee as if waiting for me to answer. "Why are you here so early? And don't say you had homework because I've been working at this school for 22 years and no one has ever given out homework on the first day."

_22 years _I thought_ how old would that make you? Time to get a life huh? And thank you for taking my alibi._

"Well, nothing big you know just the usual." I lied

"How so?" she asked.

"How so, what?"

"How so what is your usual nothing big?" She repeated patiently.

"I'd rather not discuss this, the inner most workings of my personal life." I

Said actually quite rudely, but the councilor as I learned her name was Ms.

Bluefield didn't see to notice.

"Okay then why are you here?"

"Where," I asked even though I knew the answer. I just had to keep talking or I wouldn't talk at all. 

"Here, West Bridge, or all of Minnesota for that matter."

"Well," I whispered as if saying it in a normal voice would make it all happen again. "I ran away from my father. He was abusive. After my mom died he started abusing us. We lived in New York."

"Us?" she asked. It was a fair question, though I didn't want to answer it.

"My sister, Madison and I."

"What happened to her?"

"We just woke up one morning about 2 years ago and she was gone. All of her stuff was gone too so we assumed she ran away."

"Wow," she said as if she couldn't believe what she was hearing. "I'm really sorry."

"Don't be," I told her. "You didn't do anything."

We talked for over 2 hours and I skipped two classes. She wrote me a note and as I left her office I knew I had made a friend.

While I was on my way to third period I heard Curtis walk up beside me.

"For a girl who was here so early, who knew she could be so late." He teased.

"I was in the consular's office."

"What for," He asked.

"What for! God, I can't believe you'd ask that. I mean don't play dumb. What for? I swear."

"Why?"

"Because I'm a runaway! Smart-one."

"I didn't know that." He said as if to assure me he didn't.

"You haven't heard all the stories about me?"

"Well, yeah, but…"

"If you knew why did you ask?" I demanded.

"Well," he cleared his throat. "Do you believe everything you hear?"

"No, but…" I trailed off.

"Good. We have come to an understanding."

We walked in silence if only for a moment, before he asked, "So you like to clash?"

"Excuse me?" I said, looking down at my outfit. I didn't think it clashed.

Curtis let out a laugh I was sure the whole school could hear.

"The Clash," he clarified. "The clash as in the band."

"Oh, yeah, right." I said relieved. "But how did you…"

"It was practically blaring from your Ipod yesterday."

"Oh, did I have the volume up that high? I don't usually, but the silence was just so…."

"Deafening." He finished for me.

"Yeah," I said. I felt my self smile, but I quickly bit it back. "Why are you talking to me?" I asked.

"What?" He replied looking confused.

"I mean I'm the talk of the school and you're talking to me. Plus," I added "You barley know me we are talking like old friends."

"Well, he said I don't care what other people think."

"Huh? Really, because I thought the most popular people in the school had to care what people think."

He looked embarrassed for only a moment, and then he questioned me. "Oh, ye of little faith is that what you think all popular people are like?"

"Well, no." I said embarrassed for ever bringing it up. "But that still doesn't answer my question."

"What Question?" He asked flatly. "I thought this conversation was over."

"The one I asked about us being friends." I replied seriously.

"Well, I want to be your friend. It's a reasonable request. I mean we both could use some friends and you seem interesting."

"Fine" I said shaking my head not believing he needed friends.

"I could use some loyal, not bone-head kind of friends." He answered as if knowing what I was thinking.

I nodded my head as an understanding and declared that we should go to class.

He nodded as a response and added, "See you at lunch. Wish."

I went though American History and Geometry and could only think of him. Through the rambling words of Mrs. Callahan and Ms. Tabatha I managed to take notes and stay somewhat alert, but still thinking about him, but not as in cute (he was extremely good looking), but as in I have a friend in this school. Having a friend is a wonderful feeling just wonderful.

The bell for lunch rang and before anyone could tell I was out of the classroom and putting my geometry books in my locker when a note fell out and it said.

Dear Hope,

I'm sorry I can't meet you for lunch today. Something came up. Sorry I'll miss it at least you can now think of something to argue about later. Watch out for the broccoli soup today last year five people threw up from it last year. And don't sit by the growing up girls club they're trouble. You'll know them when you see them. Good luck on your English test today and take notes for me in advanced Chem. I'll most likely be back tomorrow. My grandmother is in the hospital. It happens a lot, but she likes us there. See you soon.

Your brand new friend,

Curtis A.

As I read this I happened to notice that Curtis doesn't have good penmanship. _Oh, well there goes what I've been waiting for the past 2 hours_ _might as well get lunch._

Curtis was right to say stay away from the broccoli. It was neon green more green than humanly possible. Actually, not a lot of things on the lunch bar looked all that appetizing. I finally decided upon a PB&J sandwich. As I was walking to my wall I saw a bunch of red lipstick, gossiping girls and figured they were the group Curtis was talking about. They all looked my way and had dirty looks on their faces, but they looked away apparently already picking on someone else.

"You are such an idiot." I heard one girl say in a voice that sounded like it came from a three- year- old.

"Jesus I mean you don't have to leave the house looking like an ogre." Said another with a much deeper voice.

"Why don't you just leave her alone!" I heard myself say with a lot more force than intended.

"And just who are you?" asked one girl with a black and white halter top.

"I know!" The girl with the 3-year-old voice replied for me. "You're that chick who ran away to here. God, knows why you ran here."

"I ran out of money." I grunted under my breath.

"Well, what does she have to do with you?" Demanded a girl who was pointing to the girl who was being teased.

"She happens to be a human being or are you blind." I pointed out with pride.

The Growing up Girls Club looked stunned at my rudeness, but I didn't care. I walked over to the girl and took her by the hand and led her away from those girls. Once we got to my wall, I motioned for her to sit down and gave her half of my disgusting sandwich and we ate.

"Thanks for getting me out of that bind." She said a few minutes later.

"No Problem," I said assuring her. "Those girls are total jerks and don't even know them so if I'm willing to judge before know it's a big deal."

"They're always like that." She told me as if it were nothing.

"It's not nothing." I said flatly.

She eyed me carefully while taking a bite of her sandwich. She clearly was thinking it was nothing.

"Well," she said, "We clearly have a physic in town."

"Oh, I didn't mean to leave that impression I mean just by the way you…"

"It was a joke." She laughed

"Oh, sorry," I said shamefully.

"It's okay apparently it's hard to tell with me."

"Well, at least your humor isn't as blunt as mine."

"Well, that's nice." She said smiling. "Okay I don't want to seem rude, but I've heard stories about you and just want to know the truth."

"Promise not to judge 'til the very end?" I asked.

"Promise," she agreed.

"Fine I'm a runaway." I waited for her to react, but she didn't she was just waiting patiently for the story. "My father was abusive." I felt her looking at me now. "And I really didn't have a reason to stay you know? I mean with my mom dead and sister already gone, there was nothing to stop my dad from hitting me and nothing from me and anywhere else,"

"Why'd you come here?" she asked.

"Well, I guess that's a fair question so I'll answer it. I ran out of money. Seriously, 2000 dollars can only get you so far."

She seemed genuinely interested and slightly disappointed when I stopped.

"So runaway, huh?" she repeated as if was only a one time thing.

"Yeah," I said.

"Huh?" she answered.

She didn't seem to make a big deal of this and I loved that. I smiled and she knew I was either pleased or confused. She just shrugged her shoulders and started eating her half of the sandwich again.

"So," I said stupidly.

"So, indeed," she repeated with as much stupidity.

"So, how did you get here?" Right after I said I realized it was dumb, she was probably just born here. Though, like she had already she surprised me.

"I was adopted. Though not like most people are." She stopped hoping I would let her, but I just kept watching. "I was adopted because I was a runaway, in a likewise situation as you, and was caught somewhere along the border of New York." I turned my head. When she said New York I realized that she was the only person, other than the people in the Carlson house, who didn't have an accent. "I was sent to a facility for runaway teens and was adopted by a family here."

"Wow," I said. "You've been through a lot."

"Yeah," she said blankly, "I have."

I stood up and extended a hand to her. She took it delicately and I pulled her up with strength I had never used before. We stood there for a minute until she held out her hand to me.

"Hi, Madison Davis," she said.

I took her arm and shook it. "Hope, Hope Greene."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

"So Hope," I was just caught in my thoughts when they were interrupted by Mrs. Carlson. "I noticed that you haven't really gone out into town yet and you've been here two months." This was true. The first month it was about getting settled and breaking the ice with this family (ice that hasn't completely thawed yet) and taking care of what had to be done, such as making sure I had my legal stuff for my emancipation. But my second month I thought it would be just too weird to go out there now. I spent most of my nights reading out on the roof and watching the moon and stars twinkle with every glance. It truly was beautiful out in the country, a few months ago I would have thought the country was ugly, hot and full of cows. Now, though, I would curse anyone who thought that way.

"Um, well it's just been weird." I must have sounded like a blonde, but it was the truth and Mrs. Carlson always understood.

"Honey, it will get better." She said her voice loving. She was the kindest person I ever met and I was glad to live with her and I was sure she felt likewise. Though, I knew these things I knew, also that some times she thought I was more trouble than I was worth.

"I know," I started and was going to say something about how people at church didn't even like me, but didn't. Instead I said, "I mean, that it's really hard in my situation and old friends said I always cared too much about what others thought."

"It's not what others think that matters!" Mrs. Carlson exclaimed and I just rolled my eyes. "I know it sounds like a clique, but it's true."

"I know," I said trying to keep my voice soft 'cause I knew I Mallory was up. "I just didn't get the best start here."

I could tell Mrs. Carlson was going to say something, but she was interrupted by a loud crash from the basement. "Shoot!" We heard Mr. Carlson scream from down there.

"What is it dear?" asked Mrs. Carlson switching into problem management mode.

"The idiot washer broke," he replied, trying to stay calm. He always had to stay calm he didn't really get angry much, but he once got into a fight in high school and go six months court ordered Anger Management.

"Honey, I'll fix it later today, just get changed for breakfast." Mrs. Carlson called. She wanted me to call her Julia, like all the other kids did, but it was too weird.

"You'll fix it?" Asked Mr. Carlson, (he just wanted me to call him Mr. Carlson.) He sounded astonished.

"I mean I'll call the Maytag guy." She answered, sounding annoyed.

"Oh. Well, okay then." Mr. Carlson sounded slightly disappointed and said, "But, the repair man is just so expensive…"

"Harry!" Screamed Mrs. Carlson, now, she was standing at the top of the stairs. "Do you want to fix the washer or not? Now, please just change for breakfast."

I stood looking in the mirror. I glanced at the clock on my wall. 6:39, good. I still had twenty-one minutes until breakfast, so I laid out three outfits on my old country bed. No matter what I could always be ready in eighteen minutes flat and this included: showering, drying my hair, putting all my school stuff in my bag, doing my hair, and dressing. Rachel always thought that was insane and that I should win some award for being so fast.

I was dreading breakfast this morning, even though Mrs. Carlson was just about the greatest cook of all time. I was dreading it, because Mallory and I weren't confronted about our fight last night and that could only mean our lecture and or multiple groundings would be set in motion this morning.

I looked down at my outfits and just decided to wear my faded jeans and my long sleeve green shirt. After all not many people could pull off green and green just happens to be my favorite color, so what the hay? I walked over the mirror and pulled back my hair and secured it there with a ponytail. No, no way, I looked twelve. I put my hair back down and back up again. I left it up and slowly, dreading every second of it, I walked down the stairs.

"Hope," I heard Mr. Carlson say as I walked into the kitchen. Rachel and Mallory were already at the table staring down at their shoes._ They are more experienced at this._ I thought. "Sit down." He said in his kind-but-stern voice. I could tell this was going to be bad. I didn't know why it would be though. I mean Julie and Harry (I finally came around) have heard us all fight, it's not anything new.

"Where is everyone?" I asked and immediately knew it was a mistake. I got a dirty look, but surprisingly it wasn't from Mallory. It came from Rachel, my best friend.

"I had them eat in their rooms." Stated Mr. Carlson quickly. "I didn't think they or you would want them to hear what is going down."

Uh-oh. Mr. Carlson never talked like that.

"Well," Rachel said so quietly, it was barely audible. "What is going down?"

"I am deeply disappointed in all of you." He said completely ignoring Rachel's question and plunging into speech mode. "Especially you, Hope."

I had to admit I was stunned. I mean I barely said three sentences much less enough to start a world war (which by the way, he was talking like.) I blinked. I must have looked stunned as well. I mean even Rachel and Mallory who hadn't looked from their shoes since we started, looked stunned. "What?" I half stated.

"You heard me." Said Mr. Carlson. "You should know better. We took you in when you should have been arrested. Honestly."

"That is so unfair!" yelled Mallory. I was extremely surprised. "I mean you did the same thing for every one else. And you went to Juvenile!"

It was now Harry's turn to look stunned. Though, he wasn't stunned for long. He quickly composed himself. "I went to Anger Management." He hissed though his teeth.

"Same difference!" She yelled back. I had to admit she was being a little hypocritical. "I was the one being a total bitch! I gave her a guilt trip as long as the Gettysburg address and she says, like two words and you blame her!" I could see Mr. Carlson's face getting red. "Case closed!" Said Mallory as if she was the head of the house. I don't know but I liked that about her.

She got up and pushed in her chair so hard that she knocked it over. Rachel and I exchanged glances. She began to walk away angrily, but when she left something unfinished she always came back to do better than originally planed. I half expected her to walk up to Harry and bite his arm or something, but she actually walked up to me. She got right up to my face. And whispered "I know I've such a total who-know-what-hole and I also know it's probably too late to make a mends, but I want to be friends." I nodded my head smiling. She had been nicer to me since the fight, I was wondering why, but not now I was going to be friends with her. Wow. I had even dreamt about that happening. "Good." She walked away swishing her hair as she walked up the stairs. I could just today would be full of surprises.

"Ms. Dobson, I believe it's my turn." I was in Homeroom and Mallory's display this morning empowered me, bad combination.

"Okay then," Ms. Dobson said. "Tell me, what your view on the student body."

Today in homeroom, instead of the usual, (talking, catching up on homework, ECT.) she decided to see if there was anyone good enough to make the newspaper staff. As soon as I finished up talking about how there should be polls to take the place of a class president, the idea of democracy, the bell rang. I was walking to the door when Ms. Dobson stepped in front of me.

"You know, we could use on the staff!" She exclaimed.

"The Newspaper staff," I confirmed.

"Yes! You're perfect! You seem so opinionated and insightful. You're brilliant!"

"Opinionated. Is that a good thing?"

"Of Course it is!" she said really excitedly. "So how do you feel about joining the crew?"

"Well," I was trying to say no politely. "I haven't really thought about it."

"Oh, you'll do great! First meeting today after school." She said. "Now, get to first period." All I could think was how did that happen?

At lunch I sat down at the place I sat the first two days and placed my headphones in my ears. I was listening to some fray song, but I wasn't really paying much attention I was calculating the events of the day up 'til now. I had become a member of the newspaper staff, became friends with Mallory (I still cant wrap my head around that.) and was now eating a slice of toast. (After the fight it was time to leave for school so I just put my breakfast in a bag. Therefore meaning I eat toast.) I had been sitting down for barely two minutes when I was greeted by Madison. "Hey," I said when I saw here sit down beside me.

"Hey," she said back. "What do you have to eat?"

"Only a slice of toast," I answered.

"Uh, you can keep it." She said with a disgusted look on her face.

We sat there for a minute when I decided to say something funny. "Oh, wait I do have something." I said. I realized this was probably a mistake, but I kept going, "Pastrami on white with mayo."

"Who do you think I am Annie Hall?" She asked laughing. Oh, thank God she got it.

"Wow," I said. "I haven't met any people who get that!" I exclaimed. "It has to be a miracle."

"Or just really good cable," she said with a laugh.

"So what do have for lunch?" I asked raising my eyebrows to be funny.

"Oh, well nothing really, actually nothing at all."

"Really," I asked my eyebrows were really raised now.

"Yeah," she clarified. "I sometimes just get really busy or something comes up and I just forget to pack a lunch."

I really couldn't argue on that. Back in my home town I always forgot my lunch, and/or lunch money. I wasn't ever really fat, but I wasn't ever really skinny either. In my last two months there I lost ten pounds and people thought my dad hitting me did that, but it was me forgetting my lunch every day. "Well," I said, finally. "I always forget everything as well."

"Good to now I'm not the only one." She replied.

"Wait, wait," I said digging into my bag. "I think I have it her some where." I didn't even look I must have looked like my bag ate my head. "Ah, Ha," I exclaimed, holding out a five to her. "I can't let anyone go hungry."

"I can't…" she started, but as always I cut her off.

"Take it I insist."

"Well," She said finally, "Okay. I'll be back in a few."

"Okay," I said cheerfully.

I stuck my earphone back into my ears and opened my science book. I was reading about process of rain (how second grade. I probably only that way because I went to an advanced school all my life,) When Curtis sat down in the exact place Madison had been. "Other side," I said not even looking up from my book.

Curtis of course didn't move and answered sarcastically, "Not even a hello how was your day…"

"Other side," I said again simply.

"But why," He asked. I was now getting annoyed. Could he or could he not follow directions?

"Just go to the other stupid side!"

"Fine," he said and walked in slow motion so I could see he was doing it.

"Good boy!" I said sarcastically.

"I know," he said with just as much sarcasm. I wondered if this would be a daily routine. "I deserve a liver treat!"

"Oh, I bet you do," I shot back smiling a fake smile.

"Okay, I got a bowl O' soup. Here's your change." Madison cut in; sitting down in the spot she was before. She took a sip of her soup before noticing that someone else was there. "Who are you?" she asked Curtis.

"A sarcastic ass is what he is." I said.

"Actually my name is Curtis Adams," he corrected. "Nice to meet you, and your name would be…"

"Madison Davis," she said simply then shot me a slightly confused look.

I just shrugged in a you-don't-want-to-know gesture and she nodded taking another spoonful of soup and blowing on it. We sat there in silence for a minute. I couldn't think of one thing to say to break the silence and I don't think either of them could either. I mean I hardly knew these people. "So," said Madison breaking the silence. "How long have you two know each other?"

I opened my mouth to speak, but Curtis beat me to it. "Only two days," he answered.

"So you met on the first day of school?" she asked.

"Yep," I said slightly annoyed that Curtis cut me off.

"Wow," she marveled.

"What?" Curtis and I said together.

"Well," she started. She sighed then continued. "You too have pretty formed opinions of each other for only knowing each other for two days."

I thought about this. She had me there. I only knew Curtis for two days and I already thought he was a sarcastic insert chosen a-word here. Curtis and I sat there for a while thinking about this. I could tell I'd hurt his feelings and was about to say something when he piped up.

"So, when did you and Wish meet?" he asked Madison. I was literally stunned that Curtis had called me Wish.

"Wish," Madison and I asked at the same time.

"Your nickname," he said smiling. "In case you don't remember."

"I know, I know," I said. "It's just been so long since anyone has called me that."

Curtis could tell he'd upset me (probably because I was suddenly staring at my shoes as if they were an old tablet that needed to be decoded or something.) He was about to say something, but, Madison finally catching on to the conversation, decided to answer Curtis' question.

"Well, we actually met yesterday when Hope saved me from a bunch of sorority type girls. I swear those girls are going to end up in the same AA some day."

I thankful for the distraction smiled at Madison. And she laughed knowing that I was relieved.

"Oh," was all Curtis could get in before the bell rang. Madison was at the trash can throwing her half eaten soup away. I waved to them without turning around. I had had fun at this lunch even though things at this school hadn't gone as planned. I was planned to invent a whole new me, a me where I wasn't an open book, but that hadn't happened so far. Madison knew the basic bones of my story and with Curtis I didn't even scratch the surface. But that was still more than I wanted people to know. I barely knew these people and I had told them my secrets. What will happen once we're really close?

I was in 7th hour In Mrs. Proctor's English class, the only class I had with Madison. English was usually my best and favorite class, but now I couldn't concentrate. I was too busy starring out the window at Curtis during his free period. Looking at him now he was very good looking and he seemed so quiet it was like a poem, soft and meaningful. I was now, thank god, looking down at my work when Mrs. Proctor approached me.

"So, Ms. Babin," she said obviously talking to me. "What do you think, was Violet in the right or the wrong." We were reading the book Amos Fortune: Free Man in class right now. It was a book about a black's life as a slave or at times, rather not a slave. He had 3 wives. (2 died,) and his third had hidden money from him so he wouldn't give it all to another woman.

"Well, first off," I laughed. "My name is Greene. And I would have to say fifty-fifty. I mean it was her hard earned money too. She did just as much as Amos did to earn it and in the long run she helped the lady out more than if she had just handed it to her. But then again, in that time a woman respected her husband no matter what. And," I added. "It was really his business, so technically the money was his."

"Well, that is a very interesting view." She said as the bell rang. "Everyone _do not_ forget books for the report must be picked out by Tuesday."

I walked back to my locker placed my books into my locker and shut it. Oh, oops! I forgot my bag. I needed my bag for the newspaper meeting. I was assured that I would be provided with a pen and notepad, but by the time the meeting ended everything in the school would be locked so we had to bring our school stuff with us.

I walked into the "newspaper office" and it was really nothing special. Actually it was a piece-of-crap-hole-in-the-wall, but I didn't say that. It was a big room with a long wooden table in the middle and we all supposed to sit around it. I was a little weary at first thinking things like _goody! I get to spend my life in a boring newsroom!_, but now I was sort of looking forward to it.

My day really brightened when I saw Madison sitting at the end of the table. She saw me smiled and patted the seat next to her, motioning for me to sit down. I sat down beside her and pulled out a history pop-quiz I had just been graded on. I hadn't had time to look at it until now, but to be honest I really didn't want to. Mrs. Callahan tested on stuff that was college level and that hadn't been taught on her pop-quizzes. But she was nice her pop-quizzes were only extra credit, thank god. But this seemed surprisingly easier than all the kids made it seem. I seriously knew most of the answers on the quiz. I pulled it out and sighed a real sigh of relieve when the quiz read A+.

"Wow," Madison marveled, glancing down at my paper. "Everyone else in that class failed."

"Really," I asked dumbfounded.

"Really," she said nodding her head. "You must be some kind of freak."

"I'm not a freak." I said indignantly.

"Let me guess you went to a genius school before you came here."

"Well," I paused before answering. _Remember_, I thought to myself, _you can stay a closed book._ But I told her anyway. "Well, yeah I did." I stared at my paper and felt my eyes well up with tears, but I forced them back determined not to cry. I never cried. I learned the hard way you have to stay strong.

She looked at me softly, "I'm sorry if this hurts you." She comforted me.

I was still staring at my paper when Ms. Dobson walked in to the room. "Okay people when have a meeting to get done with so I can get home before my boyfriend has a fit."

"You're the one who was late." Pointed out a girl in the corner, that I would later learn her name was Micah.

"Yes, well you learn something new every day." Ms. Dobson said, tired. "First let's do a meet and greet."

We started around the room saying our names. We started out with Ms. Dobson, then a girl named Julie, then Cass, followed by Peter, Welsh, Micah, Ron, Katie, Even, Lauren, Sierra, then Madison, before finally ending with me.

"And Curtis," a voice said from behind the door.

"You are late Mr. Adams," Ms. Dobson boomed in her usual Irish accent. "Sit down."

He followed her instructions sitting down next to me. And said to me, "Fancy seeing you here."

"Not really," I said looking away scratching my ear. I had no idea why I was nervous.

Mrs. Dobson started assigning things. Micah was already editor, Welsh and Ron had sports, Peter and Katie had announcements, Even, Katie, and Lauren covered interviews, Ms. Dobson herself did layout, Peter and Sierra had breaking news, and Curtis was a photographer. The new people usually just worked around for a while and were usually added on to breaking news.

"Okay," said Ms. Dobson, "does anyone other than Micah want the reviews?"

"I do, Maim." I replied. Everyone was looking at me. "I mean I have a big range in music, I know a ton of movies, and I've been to a ton of musicals. I could practically be a critic. My mom was a book critic. Oh, right I read a lot and fast, if that helps."

"It does." I was expecting Ms. Dobson to answer, but it was Micah. "You can have if you're good. It would be nice to have some fresh blood doing it. Not just me."

"Really," I asked in disbelief.

"Of course," she exclaimed. "Davis you want to be her partner?"

"Yeah," said Madison. She shot me an extremely satisfied look.

"Okay it's settled then," said Ms. Dobson. "Now can we please be done here? I'm going to be late."

"We're done." Said Madison, She smiled at me in the hall as everyone was leaving. "You know," she said. "There's this party at the Arbors 1478 you wanna come?"

"I don't know," I started; I must have sounded like a baby. "It's a school night and I have some errands to run."

"Okay, well. It doesn't start 'till ten-thirty. Just run your errands and ask your parents then call to pick you up if can you come."

"Okay, well, sure." I said. "I'll do that."

I waved good-bye to Micah and then went to sit out side. It was empty outside so I just sat down on the ground underneath a small tree. I always liked sitting on the ground more than benches or seats, it was hard to explain, but there was a certain peace from just sitting on the ground. Of course, sitting on the ground meant grass stains and sore butts, but I just loved to sit on the ground. I sat on the ground trying to think, but as luck would have it I was interrupted.

"So, what you reading?" asked Madison.

"What are you doing here?"

"I just didn't want to go home yet. Is that such a crime?" Madison replied. "And you still didn't answer my question."

"About what I'm reading," I asked. I knew that was what she wanted me to answer, but I was just making sure.

"Yeah, so I'll ask you again. So, what are you reading?"

"Just this line from the Notebook," I could tell my voice was getting squeaky as I said this. I was starting to get embarrassed.

"The movie," she asked confused. "Your reading a line from the move, The Notebook?"

"Yes," I said raising my voice. How hard is it to comprehend that?

"Why" she asked as if the question was news breaking. Like why do people kill them selves? I tell you this conversation is why!

"Because," I said. "I love the movie and I was watching it yesterday and this line popped out at me." I handed her the little pink slip of paper and she read it aloud.

"I am nothing special;" She began. "Just a common man with common thoughts, and I've led a common life. There are no monuments dedicated to me and my name will soon be forgotten. But in one respect I have succeeded as gloriously as anyone who's ever lived: I've loved another with all my heart and soul; and to me, this has always been enough." When she finished she sighed a romantic sigh and said to me, "Wow, that's pretty deep."

"I know," I said. "I just love it and it makes a lot of sense."

"It does." She explained, "It's just like a poem."

"Yeah, so what do you want to do now?" I asked bluntly and idiotically.

"Well, we can just keep talking," she suggested.

"You know you remind me of my sister." I decided.

"Really," she said. Her eyes widening like they did when I talked to her that yesterday and when she found out my nickname was Wish. "how so?"

"Well, just the way you act. And also the fact that your four months younger than me."

"How'd you get a sister four months younger than you?" She asked intrigued.

"We had Different moms. Her mom divorced my dad and my dad married my mom after the divorce. Her mom didn't want her. Not that she ever knew that of course, my mom always told her that her mom died. My sister loved my mother until she died three years ago actually she died right here in West Side."

Madison looked like I slapped her across the face. "What," I asked her.

She side stepped my question completely. "Is that why you came down here?" she asked quietly.

"It's why I came down past here I just wanted to see the wreck site, but then I ran out of money."

"Wreck site," Madison repeated surprised.

"Yeah, my, mom died in a car accident." I said simply even though my heart was breaking.

"Oh," she said. "Did you look like your sister?"

"Oh, no," I said shaking my head. "We looked nothing a like. She had blonde hair and blue eyes and I have brown hair brown eyes."

"Wow, I've never heard of anything like that." She said.

"Well, actually it's not that unusual." I replied looking up. This brought back hurtful memories.

"What's your favorite color?" Madison asked.

"What," I had to admit I didn't expect that.

"You heard me, what's your favorite color? Mine is orange."

"Blue," I said answering the question. "Now it's my turn. What is your favorite movie?"

"Love Story," she replied. "And yours?"

"A Wonderful Life," I said cocking my head to see a car passing by.

"TV show," she said.

"Gilmore Girls," I said now trying to listen to the neighbors screaming at each other.

"The King of Queens," She said starring at me. It was obvious that this wasn't going to stop any time soon so I decided to put my attention in the game.

"Author," I said.

"Dickens," she said.

"Really," I asked turning my head toward her.

"Yep, is that a crime?"

"No," I said indignantly.

"Good," She said. "And yours?"

"Well, if you must know I love Sarah Dessen."

"Oh, I love her you seriously read her?" Madison exclaimed.

"Yep," I said turning my head back to the street.

The Newspaper meeting lasted an hour and a half ending at four-thirty. Madison and I talked for two hours and I told her everything about the Carlson family and how we three oldest girls swore more than Satan himself. She laughed at that. She told me about how she came here and Josh Heller the boy she liked. I told her how I came to live with the Carlson is because on my first night here I bunked behind their barn.

"Okay so the Question is, do you like Curtis?" Madison asked pretty much out of nowhere.

"I don't know what you're talking about." I said laughing.

"Oh, Come on you do too. I saw you starring at him in class." She said seriously.

"Whatever." I said in a dumb blonde voice that made her laugh so hard she started coughing.

She pulled me in so close I had to hold my breath. "The thing is if I were you I wouldn't." She said in a voice so serious it scared me. I stayed silent. "He has a kid or at least that's the word on the street. That's why he's not popular any more. Leah Reemer got Pregnant and told everyone Curtis was the father."

I pulled away and said, "Oh my God." I looked down at my watch and saw that it was six-thirty. "Oops. Gotta go," I said

We waved good-bye as we mounted our bikes and as I rode away I couldn't help but think that she seemed oddly familiar.

As I walked in to the house twenty minutes later I heard Mrs. Carlson at the door.

"Your late," she said more jokingly than out of anger.

"I know, but I was chosen for the paper and I had to stay after school and me and my friend were just talking and we lost track of time…" I said trying to seem innocent.

"You got chosen for the paper? And made a friend? Oh, honey I'm so proud of you!" She said forgetting the fact that I was late.

"Thanks," I gleamed in able to contain my excitement.

"Okay, well, I think that's great," she said with hints of panic in her voice. "I really do, but you were late so I need you to go to the market so I can feed these people. Be back by eight oh, and take this stuff to the laundry mat."

"What are you gonna do to feed these people? It's already seven." I mumbled.

"I got them fast food. But I need stuff for breakfast so go, now, bye. Money's on the fridge and buy yourself some food while you're out. Hurry."

"Okay, Okay," I nodded toward the fridge. "Is that enough money?"

"Yep," she said. "Now, go!"

I walked down the street a huge pile of dirty clothes in a trash bag and a twenty and three dollars worth of quarters in my pocket. I walked into the dead laundry-mat and started four loads of wash. I had an hour until I had to be back to throw the clothes in the dryer so I took Julie's advice, I went to explore town.

I started to walk and I passed an antique store, a diner, an art shop, a bookstore, and a dentist's office. I finally came to a coffee shop and decided I would buy myself some coffee and a sandwich. When I walked in the quiet bells on the door chimed behind me. Most of the lights were off and I thought it might be closed, but the sign said open so I kept walking.

Finally I heard a voice behind me. "Welcome to Michelle's coffee shop and diner I'm Michelle how can I help you?"

"Turning on some lights wouldn't hurt," I retorted.

"Oh, right," She said. "Micah, get the lights honey." She called to someone behind a closed door. "Sorry, I guess I just got so excited that you're our first customer and all…"

She kept on blabbing, but at some point I cut her off. "I'm your first customer?"

"Yeah, we've been in business for a week and you're our first customer," she shrugged. Then she continued with the manual business. "So, what will you have?"

"Uh," I looked up at the chalk board, but it was still so dark I couldn't see any thing. Michelle must have seen me squinting, because she yelled back to the door.

"Micah honey, get the lights!"

"Okay, okay," said a voice.

Lights came on along with a grunt. "Ah," I looked at the board and decided. "Um, BLT and a coffee to go please," I glanced at my watch. Ten minutes until I needed to put the clothes in the dryers.

"You got it, sweetheart. It'll be a minute." The woman smiled at me warmly.

"Okay, I'll still be here." I turned around to see that the voice I had heard was Micah from the paper. "Oh, hi Micah," I waved to her.

She immediately recognized me and looked down at her shoes. "I didn't know you'd be here." She blurted quite rudely actually, but I don't she meant it to sound like that.

"Well," I was smiling, "where there is coffee I will be there."

She was smiling now too. "I'm the same way."

"Why are you embarrassed?" I asked her.

"Most people aren't okay with me having this job. But I have a feeling you are. I have a feeling you're cool with a lot of stuff."

"Well, I do have that monogrammed on towels," I said, sarcastically.

She let out a laugh. "I mean," I was getting more serous now. "That I would love a job like this," I thought aloud.

"If we get more business you can have one." Michelle cut in. "Your food's ready," she smiled. "I'm serious."

"I better go," I told Micah.

"Okay," she said. "Are you coming to the party?"

"I don't know," I responded honestly.

"Okay," she said again. "Just call me."

"You got it," I said and walked out of the shop.

After I put the clothes in the dryers I walked out over to the grocery store, like I promised. I ran through aisles inserting the chosen items in the cart. I followed Julie's list like a religion only straying from it to grab a bag of Oreos. Those Carlson people are such healthy eaters. It is sometimes annoying. I saw Curtis stacking thing, he obviously works here. I saw this as my golden opportunity to apologize to him.

"Hey," I said nervously.

"Hey, yourself," he said still stacking, but he seemed genuinely shocked to see me.

"Look," I paused. I looked at him to hopefully see some indication that he understood what I was talking about, but his face was blank. This was gonna be hard. "I'm sorry for what I said at lunch." I sighed, relieved I had gotten it out at all.

He laughed and started shaking his head.

"What?" I asked.

"It's just that," he started laughing again.

"It's just what?" I asked again. Patience was never my strong point.

"You didn't have to stress about that."

"What?" I repeated as if it was a foreign language. No one I had never met would have let that slide. And the funny part was he seemed to mean it.

"Yeah," he said. "I've been called worse. Now, at risk of loosing my job I need to get back to stacking."

"Okay," I said watching him go in awe. I now knew for sure that this place was completely different than New York.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

I was now in an old sandwich van with Micah and most of the rest of the newspaper crew. I was allowed to go to the party after a lot of begging. Mrs. Carlson new I wasn't much of a sleeper anyway, so she let me go, but I had to be home by twelve, no exceptions. When I told Micah this she said we all have to be back by twelve, so we leave the party at eleven-thirty. I was riding in an old sandwich because Walsh Paterson's father was a sandwich delivery man so he snatched the car for the night. I just hope we don't get pulled over for underage driving. As we pulled up to the party Madison whispered to me,

"Can you believe we're at a party?"

"Not really," I answered. I took a look at me settings and decided this may be a really bad night, too bad I would soon learn that is an understatement.

I stepped out of the vehicle and out on the grass. I felt wetness between my toes and figured that I should have put on different shoe while Micah wasn't looking. When I told her I was coming to this shindig she insisted on giving me a make over. She came over to my house an hour early with make-up, cold cream, three outfits for me to choose from, flip-flops, and hair curlers. I had to admit I looked good. I was wearing a red mini-skirt, a blue sweater, and of course, the flip-flops. She put on me, some very subtle make-up and curled my hair.

I stood there looking for a second before Micah asked if anyone wanted a beer. After she got the yeses she came up to me and asked me if I wanted one. I shook my have and she told me suit myself and I looked around again. I didn't see much of any one I had met so I just took a seat by Peter and Katie, who was smoking a cigarette, at the back of the open trunk van.

"Hey," Katie said to me.

"Hey," I said back.

Katie had opened her mouth to say something else, but Peter interrupted her.

"You, know," he said, "Walsh and his father probably won't appreciate you smoking in their car."

"Too bad," she shot at him. "They will have to deal with it. This is what happens when you bring your car to a party."

"Whoa," Peter said taken aback. "Don't get all feisty with me. I was just making a point."

"Well, don't make it. We were talking."

"Okay sorry," he said and he went walking somewhere.

"So," she began. I was preparing myself for the question, why did come here? But as usual in this town she surprised me. "Where did you get that sweater?" She asked eyeing it.

"I don't know." I said unsure of why she was asking me this, I said finally, "Micah let me borrow it. So I don't know where she got it."

"Oh," she said. "You seem cool. Not very assuming of others and don't like to pry. I like that."

"Thanks," I said. "You can get that all from a stranger?"

"We won't be strangers for long," she said simply. "Katie Williams lived here for my whole life. The rest you'll have to find out by getting to know me."

"Fine," I declared, "I like that. Oh, and I suppose you want to know something about me."

"Yep," she was smiling.

"Okay, Hope Greene. I have lived here for two months. Runaway."

"Oh," she said. "I'm not gonna ask because that isn't fair."

I just smiled as if that was understood. Just then everyone showed up with their drinks in their hands. (Alcoholic or not is beyond me.)

"Anyone else want play quarters?" Asked Sierra Blackstone, who was in charge of breaking news.

"No," Katie said flatly. "I don't drink remember?"

"Yeah, we remember." Said Walsh, looking at me, "what about you?"

"Well," I started, but didn't get to finish.

"What are you doing here?" asked a voice from the past. I knew it had to be someone from New York, but I couldn't put my finger on exactly who.

"Look at me!" The girl shrieked in a voice that sounded like nails on a chalkboard. I new in that instant that the girl I was hearing was none other than Caroline Styles.

I turned around slowing with a glare for the one person I have ever hated. That's right I never hated my dad, only her, I am considered a forgiving person. "Oh, hello Caroline," I said in a voice that was obviously mock kindness.

"What is a jerk like you doing in a place like this?" Only she didn't use the word jerk, she said something more along the lines of witch, but started with a b.

"I don't know why are you here?" I asked rudely.

"School in New York doesn't start for another week remember?" She said so hatefully it made want to hit her.

"Oh," I said staring at the ground. I could feel everyone staring at me. Caroline was talking so loudly even some of the people at the keg had looked up.

"Is this where you ran away to?" she was talking very loudly now.

"Please quiet down," I asked her softly hoping she had have a heart or some dignity, I was wrong.

"No, I won't. You don't deserve anything! You ran away from your home, you coward. And for all I care you can get caught. I'm going home tomorrow. I guess you can bet what I'm going to do."

I looked up I felt like she had slapped me. "What?" My mouth had dropped open and I didn't even try to close it. I was shocked.

"You heard me," she took a step closer to me. "I think that your rich daddy is looking for you." I could tell her voice just slurred, barley but it did.

"Caroline," I laughed. "You're drunk and or stoned."

"So," she snapped.

"So," I said carrying out my o, "you won't remember a thing in the morning."

"I will to," she said sounding like a toddler.

"Well," I said full out hysterical, everyone must have thought I was nuts for finding this funny, but I didn't care. "Even if you do remember, I think I will e the least of your worries. I know your mom won't be happy to find you've been drinking, therefore no one will believe you."

Caroline huffed then stomped off in a rage realizing I was right. I was still laughing my head off when she left and it took me a minute to collect myself.

"You okay?" Katie asked me watching as I took a few deep breaths before answering.

"Fine, actually better than fine. I haven't felt so good in years." I was assured of myself after that particular encounter, I didn't know why.

"Okay as long as she's okay. Who wants a beer?" asked Ron.

"You want one, Hope?" asked Micah in a kind voice. "You don't have to drink it. You're under no obligation."

"Sure," I managed to get out before staring off in laughing again. Madison and Katie joined in this time, finally getting what was so funny. Micah joined in just because she thought it was funny we laughing.

Ron went off to get my beer and everyone else scattered. The only one left on the tail gate of the van was Walsh so I sat down beside him.

"So," she he began probably hoping I would take it from there, but I didn't. So, so was as far as he got, consequently that was as far as we got.

"So," I repeated after a minute. Again deadwood.

Ron came back with my beer and I eyed it slowly. I was no longer in my carefree mood. This smelled worse than crap.

"So, Ron what's your last name?" I asked stalling. Both Ron and Walsh were waiting for me to take a sip. They must have known it was my first beer and thought this would be funny.

"You know," Walsh said smirking, "you don't have to drink that."

"Shut up and let the man talk," I said looking at Ron desperately.

"Wesley," he said smirking. And with that I was kicked out of the conversation.

"Isn't that a Harry Potter character?" asked Walsh. "Why don't you tell the woman your real name?"

"Fine," Ron snapped. "The name is Alexander. Ron Alexander."  
I looked over at Walsh. "Paterson," he said. "Paterson is my last name."

They both looked over at me. "Greene, I'm Hope Greene," I said.

"We meant your drink," Ron said. "We knew your name everyone at school knows your name, we want you to drink that already."

I stared down at my shoes. I had done a lot of that lately. My shoes seriously needed to be washed.

Walsh elbowed Ron in the stomach. "Look at me," he demanded with sympathy.

"We're really sorry about whatever happened to make you come here, and I mean it. You don't have to drink that beer if you are nervous or don't want to. We're not gonna pressure you."

I thanked him for taking into consideration, my feelings and decided to take a sip anyway. It's not like I was gonna become an alcoholic or anything. I smelled it again before I took my drink and winced. God, this stuff smelled bad. Ron eyed me while I took a sip. Man, this stuff tasted as bad as it smelled. I spit it out spraying it all over Ron.

"Gross," I said with a horrified look on my face.

"Gross, why are you saying gross, I didn't spit on you!" wined Ron. He honest-to-God sounded like a little girl.

"Well, you deserved it," laughed Walsh.

Ron complained for a few more minutes before sulking of to the bathroom to wash off so he didn't get busted by his parents. I sat down again by Walsh who started talking my ear off. I put up with this for about ten minutes looking for Ron hoping to get a reprieve, I didn't get one. I didn't say anything, heck I couldn't say anything. I kept glancing down at my watch while he talked finally I cut him off.

"Walsh?" I asked.

"Yeah,"

"Could you shut up?" I asked as politely as I could.

"Sure, but I was just helping you."

I was unsure if I should ask why, I shouldn't have asked why, but I did.

"Well," he started off with. "I don't usually talk like that."

"Thank God," I laughed. "Keep going."

"Over there," he nodded toward a group of boys. "I didn't want you to here what they were saying."

It didn't take that long to figure out that they were talking about me.

"The new girl, yeah she seems pretty easy." One said to another.

"Yeah, total hole in one." The other assured him.

He shrugged his shoulders. "I guess she could keep me satisfied for tonight, but she hasn't had much to drink."

They kept talking about me, but I was so disgusted I couldn't think I began walking over to them. Walsh was calling after me, but I didn't care. I kept walking until I reached their group. I poured the beer I didn't drink on the tall guy that I could "satisfy him". I stood up straight so I was eye to eye with him.

"Hole-in-one happens to have better taste than you." I said and walked off.

I only walked a few steps before I saw the newspaper crew staring at me bug-eyed.

"Time to go," Micah said with out taking her eyes off of me. No one moved, they were all still staring at me in surprise.

I shrugged and said, "He has to smell like beer, not me." And I started walking towards the van.

"Did you know who that was?" asked Katie.

I opened my mouth to say something like he was a jerk or a self involved brat, but Katie answered for me. "He is the most popular guy in school!"

"So," I said shaking my head. Didn't she know that I didn't care?

"So," she repeated. "What do you mean so? This is important!"

"Why?" I was getting frustrated now.

"Because he is the most guy in school! Haven't you been listening?"

"I don't care!" I was so on the verge of wringing her neck.

"This is social suicide," she said flatly.

I gave her a sort of sad and angry look. "You don't think I've already done that?"

She knew what I was talking about, but she still asked. "How," she asked annoyed.

I didn't look at her or say anything. I instead looked ahead, not really at anything, breathing deeply trying not to cry. No one got me. It really made me feel at _my_ home.

When I got home I ran upstairs to my room, ignoring everyone. I cried deep, heavy sobs into my pillow. Even as the wind came to play my mother's chimes softly in the back round, it didn't comfort me.

"Help me with the muffins?" I asked Mallory. She nodded. Nobody knows that I cried last night; I'm dang good at hiding feelings. I could right a book about it.

"Hey," she said.

"Hey," I said back.

"You know," I could tell she felt unsure if she should tell me what she was about to say. "You know, now one else did, but…"

"You heard me crying last night." I finished for her. I felt a lump rise in my throat: I didn't even try to stop the tears that rolled down my face. I fell back against the stove crying. Mallory didn't know how to comfort me, but she already was. She kept on cooking while I sit on the floor. I knew she wouldn't judge me.

Curtis and I were defiantly friends. He, Madison, and I now sit together everyday. We had some rules though, we kept things light, and I my lunch with both of them. _Oh, yeah fair is fair my butt._

I was out at lunch one day and neither of them was at the wall so I ventured out to the basket ball court, big mistake. I sat down on the bleachers, stuck my earphones in my ears, took out my sandwich and watched the game. I wasn't sitting down for long when I was interrupted by the "beer head boy" from the party.

"Hey, you jerk," he yelled at me.

I took my earphones out of ears and asked innocently, "Are you talking to me?"

"Yeah, you jerk," he answered.

"Do I know you?" I asked getting annoyed. Not everyone enjoys getting called a jerk.

"Um, you should, Hole-In-One."

"Oh, you are super jerk, with the wounded ego with a beer stained shirt."

"You must think you're pretty funny now don't you?" he said angry.

"Well," I stared, making sure I sounded as much as a smart ass as you can get. "Yes, I do."

"Hey," he said, so hatefully it reminded me of my dad. "I didn't wreck my life like you did coming here."

"I don't have to listen to this," I retorted picking up my things. I began to walk away.

"Don't walk away from me! Turn around!" he screamed at my back.

I didn't turn around though, I kept walking.

He finally caught up to me. He grabbed my bag from behind me.

I held on to it tight. "Let go of my bag, sick-job," I demanded.

He tugged on it a bit. "You wrecked your life by coming here, you committed social suicide by not going out with me, I will make sure this school is a living hell for you."

I looked around the room to see everyone looking at me laughing. Everyone was holding flyers and the boy held one out to me. "See what you did?"

I glanced down at the flyer it read in big letters: "Hope Greene total slut. Don't fall for the Goody-Goody act."

I looked around all of my memories coming back to one place, all the faces, all the torment, coming back to haunt me. I was breathing deep to keep from crying or screaming, I don't know which, but it was probably a good thing, the breathing. Though I was remembering so many things I came to one face, one distinctive face that caused me to run out of that place, you want to that one face? It was my father, right before he hit for the last time.

I ran out of there wanting to cry, but I couldn't. Instead I kept my head down out of shame. I ran right into someone. _Smooth, Hope._

I lifted my head to see who it was; it was Curtis. The minute I realized it was him I threw my arms around him and held him tight. The hug lasted barely a minute, because I pulled away. I looked down at my hands, I was shaking.

Curtis told me I should sit, so I sat on a bench. Curtis talked to me sweetly while I colleted myself.

After school got out I met Curtis at the bench we agreed upon and he waited with me while I waited for my ride. In an instant my phone rang.

I was Mrs. Carlson.  
"Julie, no, no way," I said.

"Yes," was all she said and the phone went dead.

"What is it?" Curtis asked.

"I have no ride!" I collapsed against the bench.

"Come with me." Curtis instructed.

"Your ride isn't here." I informed him loosing patience fast. Yeah, I know I'm not the most patient person you'll meet.

"I don't need a ride." He declared.

"Why," I asked just to float his boat.

"I drove," he said simply, like I was dumb.

"May I inform you that you happen to be only fourteen?"

"Here you can drive at this age."

"No way," I asked in disbelieve.

"Yes, way," he said. "Since most of the parents work days and we don't have the money for a bus in this town if you take a special test you can drive to and from school at fourteen."

"Really," I asked.

"Yep," he replied putting his arms behind his head. "You gonna take that ride?"

I sighed. "Sure," I looked down, "I'll take the ride."

He started me towards his car and when people started staring at me I started walking faster.

"Slow down," Curtis called after me. He was now running to keep up with me.

"Fast is what I do." I replied speeding my pace even more. "I walk fast, I talk fast, Fast is how I function." I stopped for a split section letting him catch up. "And," I added when I started walking again, "if you have something to say, say it fast."

When we reached his car he motioned for me to open the door. I reached for the seatbelt and attempted to place it in its slot. It just would not go in there.

"Oh," he said noticing that I was fiddling with the seat belt trying to get it in to its slot. "Let me do that."

He came over to my side of the vehicle and put his arm around me wiggling the seat belt and then took a hammer out of the glove compartment in the car. My eyes got big. He laughed then hammered the seat belt in.

"Wow," was all I could say. "How do you get it undone?"

"Just press the button," he said simply as if this were normal. "That's the easy part."

We sat in silence for a moment until Curtis broke the silence.

"Funny huh?" he asked.

"What is?" I was confused.

"Life." He said.

I furrowed my eyebrows trying to understand what he was saying when he snuck a glance at me.

"I mean," he said quickly, "is that life is like that seat belt. Hard to put together initially, but then again so easy to wreck."

I knew he was right. God, he was a good friend. He made it seem like the whole world made sense. He was a good guy, the best friend I ever had. This town was turning out to be more than I expected. I have a guy I like, Walsh, several friends, the whole newspaper squad and Rachel and Mallory. I was also stuck in the fact I may have wrecked my life. I shook that feeling off fast. It was absurd or was it? Curtis broke my train of thought with comforting words.

"It's not your fault what happened with your father," he said and I believed him. "You saved yourself."

I felt hot tears roll down my cheek. I didn't even try to stop them. I had people here who understood me and that was beautiful.

When we reached the Carlson house Curtis reached over to hug me. This only made cry harder.

"It's alright; I'm here." He whispered into my ear.

"I know," I sobbed into his shoulder.

I quickly colleted myself and wiped my eyes and laughed a quiet laugh at myself. I thanked Curtis for the ride and hit the button to release the seat belt. Click. I was surprised that it that easy to undo the seat belt when it took a hammer to put it together.

I walked out of the car and walked towards the house. I was almost the steps when I turned around and called out to Curtis.

"You were right," I yelled out.

Curtis got a slightly confused look on his face. "About what?" he asked. "I sit the seatbelt?"

"You'll see," I said and turned around smiling to myself. And with that I slid my key into the slot and walked inside my new home.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

The next day all the ugliness about the flyers was forgotten. In fact I was suddenly a little more accepted. And (Of course there is an and.) when I saw the harasser (a.k.a beer boy,) he had a black eye and he muttered something completely inaudible, about being sorry. But of course I couldn't just bask in the glory. I, the goody-goody had to set the record straight.

I located the two people who were caring enough (and cared about me enough) and had those really protective tempers with enough guts to beat the crap out of beer boy. Actually I learned his name was Eli. Of course I think that pervert shouldn't be named after such a brilliant man as Eli Whitney. But as I was saying about the boys, they are Curtis and Walsh.

"Okay you two, which one of you did it?" I asked them both in an old never used janitor's closet so no one would here.

"Did what?" They asked innocently at the same time. They looked at each other surprised.

I slapped my knee. "Beat up beer boy, I mean Eli." I said Eli so disgustedly I surprised myself. It surprised me because I keep no grudges, I keep no hate. I learned never to put someone through hate by the actions of my father.

"Why do you care?" Asked Curtis, "Whoever did it did you a favor."

"A favor," I laughed, but quickly got serious. "It's not right. I'm not like that. I need you guys to apologize."

"Why do you like him," asked Walsh.

"No," I said really annoyed that he just asked me that. I actually think I was a little hurt. "I have a lot of points here. You could have been arrested and…" I listed all of the other points counting them off on my fingers and finally ended with this last one. "It's just plain wrong. You can't do that."

"Since when did you become saint like?" Asked Curtis. I just ignored his question and went on to my own.

"Do we have an agreement?" I asked, "Will you apologize?"

"What makes you so sure it was us," Walsh asked.

I inched in closer to them both. "Why do you think I think it's you?" I more stated than asked.

They looked at each other and sighed.

"Good," I raised my eyebrows at them then turned to walk out of the dusty office.

"Pass the Milk Duds," I whisper to Curtis in the crowed theater.

He passes them to me and a hand full of popcorn. He gets so close to my face I can feel his breathing. He puts his finger on his lips and quietly shushes me.

He and I went out to the movies as a friend's thing. We are definitely only friends. We are seeing Casablanca at the Red, White, and Black Bookstore that has weekend movie showings. Sad to say, but this makes me miss the city.

Actually something makes me long for the city. It all of the sudden came over me along with a miserable heat. I felt a whoosh above my seat. I must imagining things. The next thing I remember is falling and wondering into my dreamland.

I hear screams around me, but I don't care. I don't care I follow my dream. The words "Hope, hope," are called in the distance, must have been Curtis. I ignored the call.

This world I have created in my head has been avoided. It is truly time to explore the unknown, face the music, if you will. Not in my wildest dreams (well I guess not because this is a dream, but keep with me) would I have guessed this is what facing my conscience would be like this.

I am walking down an old winding road. It has been patched several times. It is full of potholes and seriously needs to be demolished. I see several people on this road. Poor people, some guarding their children and pride others reaching out to touch me, begging me to help them. I keep moving.

There are taunts coming my way. People spitting at me. Some people are screaming, others are crying. I keep moving.

The people start moving behind me. I walk faster. I begin to run.

I run until I run in a girl and I stand up. I see her face. She is me.

She has straightened hair, black nails and make-up. She has an evil glint in her eyes. She looks like me, but is someone completely different. She wears all black. I wear usually bright clothing. She looks me up in down. We meet each others gaze.

She says nothing. She looks grim. She gives me an evil look that does not leave. She grabs me by the neck. She begins to choke me.

I try to get her to stop, but I can't. I am now limp. I try to cough, but, again, I can't.

She looks me square in the eye. I try not to meet her gaze. I wish I had woken up when I had the chance. My throat is closing up. I feel hot. I thought this was a dream.

I try to wake up. I am thinking up an equation. I heard that doing that will wake you up from any slumber. Needless to say it didn't work. I give up.

"We are your secrets and lies Myra." The girl was saying. I try to choke out my name is Hope, but I couldn't say anything. Hell, I could barely hear the girl. She droned on. "This is what we will do to you. We are contained within you. We need to come out." Everything is vague. "Do something," she commanded or pleaded. It is hard to tell while being choked. Wait, shouldn't I be dead by now?

The girl drops me to the street. I wake up. I wake up in a hospital with Curtis in the seat beside me.

"Oh, thank god you're awake. You've been out cold for twenty hours now." Curtis informed me. I was out for twenty hours? The dream seemed like less time.

Actually I don't remember much about the dream. I remember being scared. I remember being choked, I think. The one thing I remember clear as day is that someone called me Myra. Why was that in my dream? I must have been contemplating this for a while because Curtis asked me if I was alright.

"Actually no," I say. "You wouldn't believe what I just had a dream about, at least the parts I remember."

"You want to tell me about it?" He asked kindly.

I shake my head. I'm not exactly sure if I can tell my self, much less him.

"Fine," he says kindly. "I'm really okay with that."

"You are?" I ask.

"Well," he began. I was sure he thought he shouldn't mention this to a girl who just got out of a coma. "The way you think sometimes scares me so I'm not sure I want to know."

"Ah," is all I say. I raise an eyebrow indicating for him to go on.

"Plus," he added trying to be nicer, "I respect people's space. I don't like to pry."

I nod. I'm learning the value of words or is it silence? Some things need not be said.

I am restricted to the bed for a week. I have to do school in bed. I have only five minutes a day to stand up. Meaning I can't shower and I stink. I should be pregnant. The doctors think it was stress that caused my collapse. If only they knew the half of it.

I have been having the same dream as I did at my freak-out. Constantly, in fact, I have it every night I just don't remember it. I wake up in a state of panic remembering nothing other than the name Myra was tossed around there somewhere.

Since I can't deal with the pain (or my sub-conscience can't) I begin to develop insomnia. It was nothing big at first, but it developed into more as the days pass.

I can't fall asleep tonight. I am freakishly tired, but I can't go to sleep. I don a pair of reindeer slippers my sister gave me as I climb out of bed. I dig some gum out and start chewing. I know it sounds weird, but gum is my instant stress reliever. I chew all the time now. It cost me a fortune.

I decide to walk past Jack and Natalie's room. I love to see them. They love me as much as I love them. I usually walk past to check and them and sometimes whisper to the door 'I love you' and occasionally am answered as I leave with an 'I love you more, hope' and it makes whatever torment I have suffered that day all better.

I look in the door way and don't see Natalie and I assume she has gone off the bathroom, but I see something limp underneath her bed. It's her.

"Oh, my god," I say just loud enough to wake Jack. My heart beats fast as Jack unfolds for his bottom bunk. My legs go limp. I feel shivers going up and down my spine. My lips are pursed out of fear. I feel adrenaline rush though me, but I can do nothing with it. I am frozen.

"What?" He asks. Poor boy at ten he probably can't handle this, but I can't do CPR. Don't know how.

"Jack," I say quickly, my words unstable, I am trying to save Natalie, "I need you to give Natalie CPR," He opens his mouth to protest or ask why, but I stop him. "Don't ask questions, just do."

He begins giving her little pumps in the chest and I put my hand over my mouth and whisper to myself, _oh, my god_, but am quickly brought back to the situation at hand.

"Oh, my god," I say very loudly, but no one stirs. "Someone help me!" I scream and even a neighbor's light comes on.

"Hope," Mrs. Carlson groggles as she comes to the youngest' door way. She mumbles something about it being two am and being as tired as a marathon runner, but her fatigue is immediately cured when she sees Jack on the floor.

Somehow Mr. Carlson got in and gave Natalie CPR, but I am unaware. Somehow everyone pats me on the back and thanks me, but I am unaware. Somehow my insomnia is no longer a problem, but, again, I am unaware. Somehow we get Natalie to the hospital and somehow Natalie got asthma, but I am unaware.

My insomnia worsens.

Thank god, I am in English class. One thing that is free of my life and full of somebody else's. I am what some people would say is the English geek.

I have straight As in English and I love writing. Since my insomnia gives me nothing to do, I usually write stories of a perfect live gone wrong, or I write sad, depressing poems, but they still turn out beautiful.

That's one of my favorite things about writing. I am turn some of my most ugly and dark and depressing feelings and turn them into something people will think is beautiful forever. Well, maybe adults may feel that way about my poems, but teenagers don't. It instead gets me a funny label. I hate labels. But at least it's better than getting beaten up. Beating up stops around fourth or fifth grade, then it turns into beating up of the soul.

Oh, well that's high school. I ran into Curtis on the way to study hall. I mean literally ran into him.

"Oh," Curtis said when I ran into him. I crouched down to pick up my books. "Why the hell do you move so fast?"

"What," I asked, because, 'why the hell do you move so fast' is an odd question for someone who nearly knocked you on your butt.

"You heard me." He declared.

"I don't know why I move so fast. I just do." I answered hoping he would leave me alone.

"You don't just move fast, you talk fast, you do everything fast!" He exclaimed like he had just found the cure for cancer. He sure liked to pry.

"I told you I don't know why I do it." I said trying to hide my annoyance.

"You know," Curtis began saying, "Some people think that you're rate of speed has to do with you're life style. You like trying to avoid a problem."

"So you think I'm passive-aggressive," I rephrased for him.

"No," he said a little too quickly. "I just think if you analyze the problem you could find come thing here." He continued on, but I wasn't listening.

"Okay, Stop!" I yelled at him, interrupting his speech.

"What?" He seemed surprised.

I ignored him. "If you think I have a problem go tell it to the people at MIT, because I'm not listening!" I didn't want to attract attention to myself so I was somewhat whispering at him.

"I was just saying…" He was starting up again, but I had had it.

"No, you weren't _just_ saying anything," I wasn't whispering anymore. I continued. "You _were_ however implying that I have some mental problems and prying into my life." Curtis opened his mouth, but he quickly shut it. "Don't correct me on my math papers, don't judge me, and don't pry into my personal life!"

"I was just trying to help you." Curtis said quietly.

"No," I corrected him, "You were trying to be a smart ass. If you want to be someone's parent go call up your own kid, just leave me out of it."

I grabbed my back pack in quickly and walked so fast down the hall I could have beaten professional track racers in this state of walking. Everyone was looking at Curtis, I knew probably because of my last statement, but he deserved it. I know that kid is his. I've met him. I bet Curtis hasn't. Kevin, Leah Reemer's kid, looks exactly like Curtis in every way. He has his mother's nose and eyes, but he has his dad's lips, hair, ears, and the exact same formation of freckles. I know that boy is his.

"Oh, good Lord Man ever thought of introducing your self from the front?" I asked Walsh after he snuck up behind me.

"Oh, well it's just not fun that way." He decided. "Then if I do that I can't surprise pretty spinsters."

I was taken aback. I mean wasn't it rude it call me a spinster? I'm only fourteen I have a little bit of time before I become a spinster. "Well, thank you Don Rickels, but I think I'm not a spinster _yet._"

He was muttering an apology, realizing his insult. "I meant my mom," he finished.

I just nodded my head in an I-Don't-Believe-It fashion, but he ignored it.

"Who's Don Rickels?" He asked me.

I began walking and he did the same.

I waited for a moment before answering. "Look it up," I said smirking. I knew this was killing him.

"You know the whole pop-culture, no one can understand what I'm trying to say thing isn't nearly as attractive as you think it is." Walsh said.

"No?" I asked sarcastically.

"You how you called Curtis a sarcastic you-know-what, well I think you might want to redirect those words back to yourself," he said in response.

My mouth opened with a smile. That was funny. Who knew he could be funny. "Well, it's always nice to know what people really think of you." I said sarcastically, just to say something.

He laughed. I guess we both needed to laugh once in a while. We were both so serious. I stopped walking, but kept going on, obviously not noticing that I had stopped.

"What happened with you?" I asked him.

He stopped walking a few steps a head of me. He seemed frozen staring off into a field. He suddenly turned to look at me. He looked so angry I shivered.

He obviously noticed this and asked me if I was okay. He really was a stand up guy.

I ignored the question. "Just would you answer the question?" I asked brokenly.

"Would you be able to answer the same question if I asked you?" He asked with a gentile voice.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I shook my head violently. A single tear strolled down me cheek. I wiped it away so fast I barely felt it, but Walsh saw it. You see I have to be strong; it was the only thing that saved me from my father.

Walsh walked over to me and put his arm around my shoulder. The next thing I knew my butt was on the pavement, sitting next to Walsh. He still had his arm around me, but I wasn't crying. I was staring off into the distance. God, I had to go pee. I tried to stand up. When I stood up everything started to spin. I starting to breaths deep and fast to try steady myself, but I was unsuccessful. I fainted again.

"King of insult," I was greeted at school the next day by Walsh.

"What?" I asked not looking up from my chem. Notes. There was a huge test today and I didn't study last night for obvious reasons.

"Don Rickels," he answered as if I should know this.

"I'm still mot following." I said still not looking up.

"Don Rickels. You know the king of insult." I was drawing a blank. I finally looked up.

"You're gonna have to give me more than that." I said.

"Don Rickels is a comedian also called the king of insult." I nodded for him to go on. Dang, he was so cryptic. "And," he added. "You called me Don Rickels yesterday."

"Ah," I say. "Finally you make a point. Kind of after the fact, but you made it."

I expected him to say something else, but he stayed silent as if absorbing this information. I was about to leave, because we were reaching my locker, Walsh stepped in front of it.

"About yesterday…" He trailed off.

"Look," I cut in as politely and calmly as possible, which was very of both because I am dang good at this whole pretending thing. It is a trait I learned a long time ago. "I don't need your pity talks or help. I'm fine, I'm self-sufficient, and I've been good on my own for the past fourteen years. So, if you wouldn't mind moving to the right so I can to locker all would be well."

He stepped to the right, cordially. (So not him) He bowed which made me roll my eyes and he walked away silently.

"What the H-E-Double hockey sticks is your problem?" Demanded an angry voice behind me, I turned around, it was Katie.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me. Are you so angry at the whole world that you don't care who you hurt?" she asked.

"Please tell me what you are talking about," I ordered growing in impatience.

"I'm talking about Curtis and Walsh."

"What about them?" I asked. Our voices were reaching a yell and people were beginning to stare. So much for keeping it on the down low.

"All the crap you said to them!" She exclaimed. You know the phrase "They are going to have a cow" well let's say I believe in it now.

I shook my head once and walked away. Katie was running to keep up with me. Walking fast had its advantages. "Why don't you care who you hurt?" she asked still running.

I abruptly stopped walking. This surprised her. "Look," I said in a low voice. "I do what I have to. I don't enjoy hurting anyone. I protect my heart at all costs, it's barely being held together with scotch tape at the moment. Just let me be." She stood in shock. "Tell Micah that I'm sorry, but I won't be able to make it to the party tonight." I added before doing the thing I do best: walking away.

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**Hey everyone sorry it took so long to up date. I'm busy with my other novel and these chapters are long, very long. Thanks to everyone who is reading. I know there are at least, like twenty. Thank you to beaner-something, for adding my story to their favorites. I'll try to update soon, but it may be awhile. I haven't even started 5. Oh, yeah and now since I know I have readers, REVIEW!!!!!!!!**


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

So, after the fight I had a night like I hadn't since newspaper crew. Eventless, or so I thought.

"Hey Hope," Rachel greeted me when I got home.

"Hey," I said with absolutely no enthusiasm.

Rachel bit her lip. She knew something was wrong and she wasn't sure if she should ask the question she was about to ask, but she did. "So, how was your day?"

"Do you have to ask?" I pretty much more informed her more than asked her.

"Probably not," Rachel was trying to hold in a laugh.

"Go ahead laugh. I'm too tired to hold up any side of a fight."

With that Rachel became serious like I thought she would.

She walked up stairs and slammed her door. I must have hurt her feeling somehow. Seems to be the theme of the day.

I walked up stairs a safe five minutes after Rachel did. I dialed Madison's number.

"Hello," she answered distracted.

I said nothing.

"Come on, answer. I don't have caller ID so I can't star 69 you."

Nothing came from my mouth. I was extra tired, I didn't want to talk or do anything. Was that shallow? I was too tired to care.

"Come on, these calls cost money." She sighed. "Talk, speak, say something, do something."

And I did, I hung up.

I collapsed on my bed. It seemed like all my stress waited until today to catch up with me. I drifted off into a short sleep.

Dreams flooded my head; the last was my father's familiar fist coming towards my face. I woke up breathing deeply.

Something compelled me to look Madison on the internet. The page came up slowly on Google's webpage.

The first two words I saw were my older sister's first and last name, Madison Greene. I quickly turned off the screen. This was too much. Too much has happened; I would rather be my father's punching bag, than be what I am, my feeling's punching bag.

This has done it. I never believed your feelings could catch up with you, until now. At that moment I remembered what happened in this town, which just put the icing on the cake. My mother died here.

I couldn't handle this. I couldn't cry though, so I went to my closet. I picked up a large box, which I called my never again box. It was filled with pictures of my father, pictures of my mother and sister, pieces of each cast that my father put me in, a finger splint from the time my father got giddy with a hammer, and a pair of boxing gloves. The boxing gloves made me the angriest. I used those to vent anger I had from my father, from my mother's death, from Madison leaving. When I came here I swore I would never use them again.

Well, I've never been one of sentimental value, so I grabbed the gloves and left the house without a sound.

I've never ever heard of a 24-hour gym, but there it was in the middle of town. It was deserted because of the fact that it was twelve am. I went into the empty locker room and changed into my sports bra and my shorts. I walked out to the gym's ring with a punching bag in the middle of it. I pulled on the black leather gloves and got in stance. I began punching and kicking there was no stopping me. I was gone. I just kept on punching, when a new memory stuck me I punched harder. For every punch, slap, or any infliction on body made by my father, the punching bag got twenty.

When I remembered my mother's death I punched harder than I ever had. I kicked hard and frequently. I felt hot tears fall down my face, I punched harder.

I knew I was done. I had let everything out which I could never let anyone know about. That was my version of strong. You had to keep everything inside and never let anyone know.

I decided to give the bag one last punch. I punched it hard, very hard in fact. It went all the way up. At the very same moment I hit it a young boy walked and yelled,

"Hey!"

I turned my head to see who was there, but I didn't get a good look because the punching bag came at me hard. And for lack of better words, I went flying.

I knew this was funny. Heck, if wasn't so crabby and my nose didn't hurt so badly, I would have been laughing my butt off.

Even though I was seeing double, I was sure I would be fine in the morning, but the boy insisted on talking me to the hospital.

When we were there the doctor informed me that I had a mild concussion. Joy. I decided to look at the clock. Wow, five-forty five.

I glanced at the gym boy who hadn't left my side. I didn't get a good look at him; I didn't pay attention to what he had said on the drive, so now was an opportune moment to look at him. I was surprised at what I saw.

"Oh, Curtis," I said stunned.

Curtis laughed. "It took you that long to notice?"

"Well, uh, yeah."

"Okay."

We sat there for a moment both of us wanting to say something, but not doing so. So, I decided to make the first move.

"So, about today…" I began.

"Don't worry about it. I probably shouldn't of pried and I shouldn't have said you were passive aggressive, even though you maybe," I raised my eyebrows. "But I'm sorry, but you then again could have been nicer." I shrugged my shoulders. "And," He added. I sighed. "You can not accuse me of having a kid!"

"Oh come on," I blurted. "I've seen that kid. It looks exactly like you."

"But it's not mine, believe me. Physics will say the same thing."

I knew what he was saying. I nodded. "I will choose to believe you."

"Good." He said. "You're probably the only one who does."

"Well, I like being special." I smiled at him. He laughed a little.

"So," he inquired, "why were you at the gym so early?"

"Why were you?" I asked.

"My dad owns the place and he thought he heard noises and sent me to check up on it. And you?"

I opened my mouth to tell him the real reason, but I couldn't. So I dodged the question. "It's a 24-hour gym is it not?"

"Yeah, but there's this thing called sleep and most people need it."

"Maybe not all people," I was trying to be funny so I could get out of this gracefully.

"Since when were you there," He really couldn't take a hint.

"Mid night," I answered simply.

"But…"

"Hey, you're doing that whole prying thing again." I informed him.

"Oh, sorry," He looked down. "But can I ask one question?"

"Shoot," I told him.

"Why are you so secretive?" He asked me.

"You know what? I take that back, don't shoot."

"Why?" he asked.

"Because I have to be," I answered simply.

"Oh, so now we're being cryptic?"

"You never said the answer had to detailed." I told him.

"True," he said.

We sat for a minute until I spoke.

"Do you have a cell phone?" I asked him.

"Yeah," he answered.

"Can I borrow it?" I asked him.

"Why?"

"Because I forgot to call the Mr. Carlson," I told him.

He handed me his phone and I dialed my home number.

"Hope?" asked a frantic voice.

"That's me." I told Mrs. Carlson.

"Oh, thank God," she said. "Where are you?"

"The hospital," I told her. I was ashamed.

"We'll be right there."

"Uh, Okay," I said and hung up the phone.

I handed Curtis back his phone and sat down.

"How bad," he asked me.

"Can you say grounded for life?"

"Been there," he said. "Done that."

I laughed.

**Okay so I know it's kinda short compared to other chapters, but I don't know what to write. Sorry if it was weird, but I haven't written in a while. Seriously, I had 1-4 written in the beginning of summer. And I've been getting confused with writing two story's at once. I don't recommend it. I hope you liked it. REVIEW! REVIEW! REVIEW! **


	6. Chapter 6 author's note

Author's note

Okay guys, I'm really sorry, and I know that using a whole chapter for an author's note is strictly forbidden, but I thought I'd risk it.

Okay so I'm having trouble with this story and school is starting and I'm usually really good at updating fast (at least in my other story) so I thought I'd let you know that this story is going not going to be updated for a while. I just hope I'll be able to finish writing it. (didn't mean to scare you there.)

I also have some other stuff going on making me busier. Thank god though, that I'm getting my own laptop soon so I can write all I want. Plus I've sort of lost interest in this story. (Wow, if the writer lost interest, I just wonder what that means for the people reading it.) And probably since I posted this it will be just my luck that I update really soon. That's just how I am. Weird how the universe works huh? I Just wanted to give you a heads up. Bye. ----- Sarah


	7. Chapter 7chapter six

**Yeah! I'm off hiatus! **

**Chapter 6**

"Hope Melisa Greene, what on earth is wrong with you?" Mrs. Carlson walked though the stark white hospital.

I just shrugged with a funny look on my face. (Not that you can help but to look funny with an extremely swollen nose.

"You do not just go out in the middle of the night!" She exclaimed.

I shrugged again.

She came over to me and hugged me hard. That threw me.

"I was so worried," she whispered while I was still in her grasp.

"I'm _so_ sorry," I said.

We finally let go and then the rest of the family walked in.

"Are you okay?" Rachel asked from a corner.

"You mean other than the basket ball sized nose that I have at the moment? Yeah, I'm great." I said sarcastically.

I saw Rachel's mouth drop in awe at my words.

"Oh, my god," Mallory said walking towards me. "How'd you do that?"

"I was tackled by a punching bag," I told her.

"But, how…Never mind," she said. "I don't want to know."

I laughed a little bit and Curtis cleared his throat. "I better go," He said.

"Oh, well, thanks for staying with me," I said.

"No, problem, but unlike some people with red noses, I have to go to school."

"Go before I throw this ice pack at you," I said holding up the square, puke green ice pack.

"No, really your nose looks great," he said.

I raised my eyebrows.

"Yeah, totally, you know a lot of people like round."

"Good bye," I said with fake annoyance.

"Good bye," He left with a laugh.

Once he was gone Mallory piped up again. "Well, well, well," she said.

"What?" I said trying to play dumb.

"Come on," Rachel chimed in. "Any idiot could see it, Ms. Flirt."

"Oh, come on, that's Curtis," I tried to reason with them.

"We know," Mrs. Carlson added. Was everyone prying into my personal life? Would this never end?

I brushed them off with a, "Whatever." But I couldn't stop smiling for some reason.

-000-

So as a result of getting hit in the nose with the punching bag and getting a concussion, I have to spend all of today with this icepack strapped to my face. And I have to "Take it easy." But of course to Mrs. Carlson that means no getting up at all. I was practically on bed rest. I should've been pregnant.

Every time I wanted to get something, Julie would come in and get it for me. It was annoying. I mean I'm fourteen for god's sake! I should be allowed to get my own water.

So after awhile (and after school would have been out,) I decided to call Madison.

"Hello?" she answered her cell.

"Hey," I said groggily. I had just taken a pain pill.

"Oh, if it isn't punching bag nose," she said jokingly.

"Who told you?" I asked.

"Curtis," She said.

I was too tired to make a fuss so I just sighed.

"Oh, do you want to know something weird?" She asked me.

"Sure," I said.

"Well, some freak called last night and didn't say anything, even though it wasn't a telemarketer. Weird right?"

"Oh, yeah, totally," I lied.

"So," she said. "You sound ready to zone out so I'll call you tomorrow?"

"Sure," I said for the second time in this phone call before I hung up.

I sat there for a minute thinking. (I did that best.)

When that came out fruitless, (I just got a thesaurus for the paper) I decided to start the work for the paper.

_The Nutcracker by Hope Melisa Greene_

_The play The Nutcracker at Royalton Theater brings a new mean to the word._

I didn't know if I was being too harsh, but the play really did suck.

_The costumes didn't fit the actors properly fit the actors. In fact, the lead ballerina had a roll around her bra-strap. _

I was pretty sure I had just crossed the line, but the whole point of being a journalist was telling the truth.

_The actors had about as much grace as a pair of hippos…_

I yawned. The pills were finally making me drowsy. I barely made it to the bed before I fell asleep.

I woke up the next morning on the floor. Apparently I hadn't made it to the bed.

I looked at my watch. Oh, shoot! It was 9:30 and I had to be at the doctor's at ten.

I hastily threw on a tee shirt and skirt and Put my hair into a messy bun, before running down stairs to meet the others.

-000-

"Yes, It's confirmed," The doctor said showing Mrs. Carlson the x-ray of my nose.

"Oh, goodie," I exclaimed sarcastically. "I get to wear a white bandage on my nose for…" I waited for the doctor to answer my question.

"Two weeks," she filled me in. "But, young lady," she scolded. "There is no need for sarcasm. This is technically your fault."

I sunk lower in the hospital bed.

"So, you're gonna be plaster nose huh?" Mallory asked rudely.

"Can it," I warned. Some old habits die hard. I guess.

Mallory opened her mouth to say something else, but Mrs. Carlson jumped in to avoid "Blood-shed."

"Okay, girls," she said quickly. She pointed to me. "You're obviously tired and cranky and so is Mallory, so why don't we just go home and get some rest?"

"Fine," I said.

Mallory grunted out a fine as well.

-000-

Apparently I caused more damage at the hospital that I thought.

Mallory was barely talking at all…to me.

The only times she did grunt a word to me was when it was absolutely necessary. When I asked for her to pass the potatoes last night at dinner, to warn me that if I didn't want to walk to school in the freezing cold weather I had better hurry up, and, well that was it.

And my nose wasn't helping matters the least bit.

Okay, so I admit that my temper isn't exactly my strong point, but you'd think that after three days she would have gotten over my stupid remark.

This sucks. I mean we were finally beginning to understand each other and I wreck it all by saying "Can it"?

Is it just me or is this really unfair.

My train of thought was interrupted by a telephone ring.

"Hello," I answered.

"Hey," came the voice. It was Madison.

"Hey," I said again. "Um, I'm really not in the mood for talking, so should I call later or…"

"Oh, that's totally fine," she said cheerily. Just the fact that she was cheery and I was miserable mad me want to vomit. "I'll just see you at school."

I groaned at the thought of school, and seeing Kate.

"What?" Madison asked.

"Just…school."

She laughed. "See you then."

Click. She had hung up the phone.

**a/n Okay so not as good as I thought it would be. I tried to make a longer chapter, to make up for the time I spent on hiatus. But I'm really busy. As it is I'm spending every free moment writing. I'm writing right now in study hall. (When I should be studying for my history quiz.) Anyways, thanks for reading! REVIEW!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 7**

So, the dryer went bye-bye. Completely. Big explosion. Very dramatic.

There is a scorch mark where the dryer used to be.

I personally thought that it broke because Mr. Carlson kicked it one to many times, but the fire department said that it caught fire because someone (aka Rachel, I'm sorry but sometimes she can be such a blonde) forgot to empty the lint trap.

So, long story short we had to hang up the clothes by hand.

Mr. Carlson had put up two wires in the basement so we could hang up the clothes after the came the came out of the dryer.

So, that was what I was doing now. I was hanging things on the rack.

Then, the silent woman (Mallory) walked in.

She had the clothes basket with her. When she saw me she stiffened. (we still weren't talking)

"Just passing though," she said cooly.

'Fine," I replied.

She walked up to the washer placed clothes in there, stopped, slammed the lid, and turned to face me.

I stopped hanging clothes aswell.

"You've got a lot of nerve you know that?" She said angry.

I took a deep breath to keep my cool then asked, "How so?"

"You just run your sarcastic, oppinionated mouth-"

"That's not true," I cut in.

She just continued her rant. "- like you don't care who you hurt!"

"I do care who I hurt!" I blurted.

'then you just can't control your mouth." She more stated than asked.

"Niether can you!"

We both stared at our shoes for a minute.

"looks like we both got some issues to work out, huh?" She said.

'Seems like it," I said quietly.

We stared at our shoes for another minute.

"You need any help with that?" She asked gesturing towards my laudry basket.

"Sure," I said, "Thanks."

As we hung clothes in silence I knew all was forgiven.

-000-

"Are you sure that there's nothing you can do?"

I was talking to Micah about my review about the nutcracker ballet.

"Nope, nothing," she replied.

"But I'm reading though it again and I think I said some pretty nasty things and-"

"You did write some nasty things," she told me.

"But-"

"Look, you were honest and it was a great review, okay?"

"Fine," I said.

"You know," Micah said. "For a girl that screams at people in public, you have the conscious about the strangest things."

"Whatever," I said.

As I was walking away I was looking for my chemistry homework when Curtis came up to me.

"Hey, Melisa," he said.

I gave him a weird look. "My name's Hope."

"Yeah, I know," He said.

"Then why did you call me Melisa?"

"That's your middle name isn't it?"

"Yeah," I said.

"Well, don't take this the wrong way, but I've decided that you don't exactly live up to your name, hope, so I'm gonna call you Melisa."

I was still looking for my homework and I was trying to stay cool so I just gave him a sarcastic, "That's fascinating."

"Well, you've mellowed," he said.

"Well, I'm taking it one day at a time." I found my homework!

"Well, do you want me to call Wish?"

My heart skipped a beat. "Call me that and die."

"Why, you let me call you it before."

"That was before the box," I whispered.

"What?"

I spoke louder. "That name was persevered for one person, and that person's dead, okay?'

"Oh," he said.

We walked in silence for a moment.

"Well," HE finally said. "Since you seem so down, I should probably give you this."

He handed me a thick book.

"This is my copy of Oliver Twist," I said.

"Yep, I just wanted to put some notes in the margins for ya."

The bell rang.

"I should probably get to class," I said.

"Bye Melisa," He said.

That time it bugged me. "Bye, dodger."

"Whatever," He said.

"Right back at you."

**Okay so not that amazing, I did it quick. I hope you people enjoy it! It was also pretty short. Sorry! I ****kinda**** neglect this story. My Gilmore ****girls**** story is really fun to write so I write more in that. If you like Gilmore girls you should read it! Even if ****your**** not that into Gilmore girls you should still read it. I have a character in it completely non related to Gilmore girls. Okay well enough with advertizing, here's my favorite part…REVIEW! REVIEW! REVIEW! (****sorry**** I just really love reviews)**


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